FIC PROMPT: my boys eichart with something fluffy. i dont care what. domestic shit. something happy 💞
u do love challenging me dont u meg. fluff? idk her. i still have the last prompt u sent me sitting and marinating in my drafts. anyway. enjoy a horribly written ficlet.
12:30 am is pretty much the same everywhere –that muted sort of feeling that sleep should be coming soon but it’s not. And Jack is starving. And feeling too lazy to pull anything together that requires more than two steps and thirty seconds. So he dumps some Cheerios into a bowl and searches the fridge for milk. It doesn’t take long given its barren state, only when he retrieves the jug from its shelf there’s not even enough sloshing around the bottom to dampen his Cheerios. Which like, dry Cheerios –not cool.
“Sam,” He yells, “where’s the fucking milk?”
In the living room, Sam shifts on the couch, craning his neck to get a good look at the kitchen. “In your hand?” He says unconvincingly.
Jack rolls his eyes and moves from the counter to a better line of sight, all the better to direct his looked of unamused, disapproval. He holds the offending jug up. “There’s literally like, half a teaspoon left in here. It was your turn to get the groceries this week –you had one job.”
“Two.” Which is a shitty and lame excuse, by the way.
“Oh, so you can pick up your protein bars but not some fucking whole milk? What am I supposed to do with my Cheerios now?” And like, he’s not really that upset over the whole not having milk situation, it’s more –he just likes it sometimes, the banter, the pushing.
Sam stares back at him, unimpressed. “Wegmans is open right now –go buy your own milk if you want cereal so bad.”
And uh –hell no, Samsom. “Samson, if you think you’re getting out of this you’re fucking wrong.”
“I’m not going with you.”
“Yes you are.”
“Jack– do you really want to go out just for milk right now?”
“Yes.” He says, more to be difficult than anything else.
Sam regards him for a long moment before he shuts his laptop with a sharp click and exasperated sigh. “Fine.”
Jack blinks, caught slightly by surprise, but recovers quickly, giving Sam a slash of a grin, “Great –I’ll drive.”
The drive is a relatively quiet one, peaceful like the lack of cars on the road, and Jack’s gaze slides occasionally to the panes of Sam’s face, illuminated in the glow of passing street and traffic lights.
“I can’t believe you want milk this badly.” Sam mutters as they wait at a red light, there’re no cars in sight and Jack’s tempted to run it. But instead, he turns to look at Sam with his pulled up hoodie and expression that doesn’t quite match his exasperated tone. It’s —gentle. But maybe that’s just the glow of the red light. There’s a feeling though, and Jack’s no stranger to it even if he hasn’t felt it in a long time.
He swallows, looks away. Sam seems not to notice, fingers idly tapping against the door.
The light turns green and Jack guns the car, as if he can leave the funny warmth in his stomach at the intersection.
Wegmans at 1 am is a surprisingly peaceful experience: no carts clattering loudly over tile, no screaming kids and tired moms. It’s the feeling of ice rinks after the lights have gone out, of quiet bedrooms and a redeye out of Buffalo with Sam curled up on the seat next to him.
Sam follows him like a quiet shadow, only speaking in quiet suggestions and pointed fingers drawn from the depths of his hoodie pocket. He catches Sam looking sometimes, fleeting moments he can’t quite catch besides out of the corner of his eye.
They end up with a lot more than milk –sushi and pasta and eggs and unbuttered popcorn that tastes like nothing all loaded into the single open checkout. The cashier shows no visible sign of recognizing them –either doesn’t know or doesn’t care –either way, Jack’s vaguely relieved. Exhaustion is finally settling in now, and he blankly watches her scan their objects one by one.
He almost doesn’t notice that beside him Sam is edging closer. Doesn’t really until he’s resting his head on his shoulder and Jack lets him. He has the urge to wrap an arm around him –Jack resists it.
“$15.62.” says the cashier without missing a beat, and Jack fishes a twenty out of his wallet with as little movement as possible.
“Thanks.” He says, gathers their bags and tugs Sam out by his arm.
It’s closer to 1:30 by the time they get back. Jack listens to Sam’s breath even out into sleep over the soft purr of the car engine, stares more obviously when they’re stopped at the red lights.
“Sam.” Jack says when he’s parked back in their garage, silence pressing around them as he shuts off the engine. It sounds loud in the absence of all sound, but Sam doesn’t stir. And Jack can feel himself staring again, noticing too much in the muted light –the way Sam looks younger in the way people do when sleep erases years, the way there’s a strand of hair falling across his face and Jack doesn’t realize he’s reaching out to brush it away until he is.
Sam stirs under featherlight touch and Jack snatches his hand back.
“Samson,” he says, firm. “Wake up. We’re home.” Sam mumbles something incoherent and Jack opens his door and climbs out, tossing “Grab the milk, will ya?” over his shoulder for good measure.
“Fuck —grab your own milk, Jack.”
this flash fic has been brought to youentirely by my love of Wegmans at 1 am. I hope u enjoyed.
also hmmm… now reflecting on this. it’s more… content than happy. but like. that’s cool right??? i love the feeling of contentness. it matching the liminal feeling of Wegmans at 1 am.
*star emoji* because even though you always make fun of the sabres and sabres fans ur a really rad person and i love you a whole lot!!!! and also youre literally hilarious i love seein u on my dash
kjfsaldf you’re so funny too like i love fans of teams i trash because if they can take a joke they’re usually the best people to talk to !that’s def you.
And I was like listen I’ll take you to a concert with me (they were like “he does concerts??”) and I was like yeah they’re slow swing frank Sinatra type music, and I’ll bring you to one,
So naturally they’re like no we hate him we don’t want to go and I said I’ll just stand up and scream “FUCK ME SETH” at the concert and they agreed to come with me
Anyway how’s y'all nights goin
¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (if ur still doing the soulmate thing, if not you can ignore this)
You got boston boy Charlie Coyle !!! so like he could win the cup soon so that’s awesome also like i sai dhe’s from boston so. i just like my boston boys a lot.
